Precious Secrets
by Immi
Summary: Greg's apologetic, Sara's upset, and Catherine fixes things. Could be considered fluff. CathSara.


**AN:** Hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day... if that's even possible... Yes, Immi hates it. But still, hope you people had fun.

**Dislcaimer:** I do not own CSI or anything else here. How sad.

* * *

"Sara! I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident! Could you pleeease stop with the silent treatment?"

I look up to see an extremely wet Sara stomping down the hallway, followed closely by Greg.

That can't be good.

Sara rarely gets upset with Greg- if she's giving him the silent treatment, he must have really screwed up.

Meaning I should probably go interfere before my girlfriend ends up killing him.

And if I happen to physically interact with a soaking wet brunette in that process, I'll hardly complain.

I grin at the thought, and almost jump up from my desk. This shift just got a whole lot more interesting than paperwork.

* * *

"Sara... c'mon!"

Greg is pretty much whining for forgiveness for 'whatever he did' outside the locker room door. At least he had the good sense not to follow Sara in there.

"Sara, could you just-"

"Greg?" I wait until he turns around and sees my mischievous smirk before continuing. "Let me handle this one."

His eyes widen, and a slow grin forms on his face. Greg is the only one at the lab who knows that Sara and I are involved, and I'm sure that he has a pretty good idea of what I have planned for her.

"Be my guest Catherine." He steps aside and bows me into the room, shutting the door behind me.

Walking in, the first thing I notice is that Sara has yet to get out of her wet clothes.

Good- all the more fun for me.

I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She tenses immediately, but relaxes somewhat when I lean up to kiss her neck.

"Hey sexy; how about we remove those wet clothes?"

She turns around in my arms and kisses me lightly. "Yeah."

I start at the weakness in her voice. My plans just changed. She sounds like she did when she started to tell me about her parents- and God knows that's not a good sign.

"Sara? You okay?"

I cup her face in my hands and force her to look me in the eyes. She looks like Hell, but she nods anyways.

"Just... Would you..." She blushes slightly, and avoids my gaze. "Would you shower with me? Please?"

My gaze softens as I hear her quiet plea. I hate that she sounds so insecure right now, and I will do absolutely anything to make it better.

"Of course, Sara."

She sighs in relief and smiles weakly at me as I start helping her to remove her wet clothes.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask softly. I rub my hands over the rough scar tissue covering her back, watching as the soap slips away under the spray of the water.

She relaxes into me and I smile a little. She's still more tense than usual, but the fact that she isn't pushing me away can only be good.

"It's silly," she whispers.

I nod and move to spread more soap across her torso. "If you think so, but anything that makes you this upset isn't silly in my mind."

She tenses and moves a bit, as if she wants to run away, but I hold her tightly in my arms, nuzzling my head between her shoulder blades, trying to get her to relax again.

"Hey, if you don't want to right now, it's okay. I can wait."

She stays silent for a few minutes. I can actually feel her body trying to force itself into relaxation. Then she speaks up again.

"You'd think that a Cali kid... someone who likes going to the beach... someone who grew up in Tamales **Bay**..." She snorts softly before she quiets again, and I wait, knowing that she's still getting her thoughts in order.

"Greg and I had finished processing the scene," she starts up again. "And I tripped over him... I fell into the pool..." Again she pauses.

"Mom and Dad needed money for their drugs. And... it would have been easier for them if I had just gone and drowned... so I didn't get any swimming lessons. By the time... I was twelve when I went into foster care. Pretty much a teenager. I didn't want... what teenager would admit to not being able to swim?"

I shut my eyes tight and curse her parents for the thousandth time. I really never thought I could hate two people so much.

Sara's still in my arms, probably waiting for me to laugh at her or make some derogatory remark. I sigh and reach around her to turn off the shower.

"C'mon, Sara. Let's get you into some dry clothes."

* * *

"I love you," Sara whispers into my neck. We just got to my place, and are now lying on my- our bed. Just holding each other and reveling in feeling that the other is there.

I smile, glad to hear her say it.

"I know, baby. I love you too."

She sits up in my arms and looks at me shyly. "Could you... maybe... teach me to swim?"

I pretend to think it over for a few seconds before answering. "Hmmm... on one condition."

"Okay." She waits patiently to hear it, her eyes reflecting her trust in me.

I smirk. "I get to help pick out your swimsuit."

She grins and rolls over so that she's on top of me. Then she leans down and kisses me hard, leaving me thoroughly breathless.

"Of course, my dear Cat."


End file.
